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U​.​S​.​P​.​S. - United Songwriters for the People's Sovereignty

by U.S.P.S. - United Songwriters for the People's Sovereignty

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1.
For the Change 06.28.20 How could I bring my pain to the river When the river itself I have drained How could I let my greed get so thirsty And How will I show up for the change How could I learn the song of a bird If I kept her locked up in a cage? How could I sing it, myself so freely And How will I show up for the change? I see the path Laid out before me I want to find a new way I want to walk with the others With my sisters and brothers And I want to show up for the change How can I listen to the sound of a silence, The hands of my ancestors made How could I turn my eyes from that violence? And how will I show up for the change?
2.
Under a black umbrella, you were keeping to yourself And the rain came down like diamonds on the sidewalk where you stood Another lonely town across the endless bible belt Nothing big enough for headlines ever happened here until today Looking like a stranger in your older brother’s coat You were watching from the corner, as the day slowly unfolded A ringing bell against the door of Frank’s savings and loan And you saw it all, the teller ducking down, the gun exploding Like an old bronze statue you were frozen there in place One man slumped on the counter while the other filled a pillowcase And suddenly your feet were running, rain all in your face Across the street, the ringing bell, the door, the engine roaring Blood was on the floor, the teller reaching out his hand And you felt his pulse, you called for help, you tried to stop the bleeding Sirens on the boulevard, a rush of blue motion Like a wave came on, their weapons drawn, the teller’s soul just leaving Hands over your head they said, and you tried to tell the truth The pillowcase, the getaway, the car, the blood and you In your older brother’s coat, your stocking hat and worn out shoes But to them you were just some punk kid cracked out and skipping school Anger like a freighter pulling punches in your head And you tried to push your way past all the uniforms and the dead man But they pulled you to the ground your face pressed on the wet cement Like an animal, spreadeagle, the umbrella in your waistband Gun, somebody cried, and you kicked your legs and broke the window In a chaos of confusion, raining glass like diamonds loosed and you were On your feet again and then a bullet danced right through you And the ground came up like some great flood and then you were not moving Under a black umbrella you were keeping to yourself And the rain came down like diamonds on the sidewalk where you fell And nothing in the headlines even mentioned you at all Just a corner note about a cracked out kid who broke the law
3.
There’s a certain austere majesty To the cruelty of history As long as it didn’t happen As long as it didn’t happen to you One day good old Joe Stalin got it into his imaginative little head that Shostakovich’s opera, Lady Macbeth, was somehow subversive. And so over the next year, he arrested or executed the great composer’s friends and family, egg-headed intellectual types such as astronomers, musicologists, physicists, and even his mother-in- law. And Shostakovich was officially labeled (wait for it) an “enemy of the people.” Thankfully, eighty years later, Russian heads of state aren’t killing people and nobody would ever use the term “enemy of the people” here in the USA, would they? There’s a certain cartoonish obscenity To the cruelty of history As long as it didn’t happen As long as it didn’t happen to you When the Cherokee were being forcibly removed from their lands in the 1800s, they took their case all the way to the Supreme Court, which in 1832 found them to be a sovereign nation. But you wouldn’t know it from the actions of President Andrew Jackson, who sent the U.S. Army to march them off their land anyhow. And while he probably never actually said “Chief Justice Marshall has made his decision; now let him enforce it” well... actions speak louder than words. How do you like those checks and balances? And I’m not naming names, but I’ll give you one guess as to which President has Old Hickory’s portrait hanging in his office... There’s a certain childish spite To the cruelty of history As long as it didn’t happen As long as it doesn’t happen to you I’m sure we all agree that the first-hand experience of being enslaved was unimaginably painful and degrading, but let’s turn our attention to the salt in the wound known as the 3/5ths compromise in the U.S. Constitution, which meant that not only would you be tortured and raped and worked to death, but that your body (or three fifths of it, at least) would be counted in the census. So, although you couldn’t vote, your body was used to give your captors greater political representation. Boy that must’ve stung. Thankfully, 233 years later, things are different. Let’s take the case of some young man in Chicago, busted for possession of weed. If he’s a person of color, it’s a fact that he’s likelier to go to prison, and mass incarceration being what it is, he’s likely to wind up in a prison out in, say, Greenville, Illinois, or Jacksonville, Illinois... largely white districts, where, you guessed it, he’ll be counted in the census. So, although he can’t vote, his body will be used to give greater political representation to his captors! Dizzying, isn’t it? Are you looking for a sudden pivot into American exceptionalism and basic human decency? Sorry, you’re in the wrong song, my friend. Maybe once you’re done listening to this folksong, get to the voting booth or better yet out in streets, and bend the moral arc like your life depends on it. Oh- one parting thought: Karl Marx said that history repeats itself, first as tragedy, then as farce. Well... let’s hope so.
4.
Nudo de raíces Soy muchos pedacitos de muchos lugares Pelo lacio, cola grande Idiomas mezclados, acento desconocido Desconocido, por las fronteras, las familias, los mares Cantando con los ojos, porque no sé la letra Cantando con el cuerpo que me he dejado amar. Siempre me faltan las palabras A veces me duele el desarraigo Nunca seré “de” un lugar – ni aquí, ni allá Acepto mi vida como hogar. Amo, acepto, me amo, me acepto Respiro, canto, Y me vuelvo a sembrar I’ve been told that I am beautiful, and sometimes I believe it Mostly I get lost in my own mind I’ve been told that I am worthy of a love beyond believing That I can’t help but doubt most of the time What do I do with these feelings? What do I do with these lines? Why am I searching for reasons to get lost in my mind? I’ve been told that when the stars align, it’s divine constellations But I’m tired of hearing, “honey, what’s your sign?” I’ve been told that love is beautiful and beyond explanation But that is only when the stars align What do I do with these feelings? What do I do with these lines? Why am I searching for reasons to get lost in my mind? To get lost in my mind Oh, I get lost in my mind Nudo de raíces – Translation I am many pieces of many places Straight hair, big butt Mixed languages, unknown accent Unknown because of borders; of families; of oceans Singing with my eyes, because I don’t know the lyrics Singing with the body that I have allowed myself to love Words always fail me This uprootedness sometimes hurts I will never be “from” somewhere – not here, nor there I accept my life as my home. I love, I accept. I love myself, I accept myself. I breathe, I sing, And I plant myself all over again.
5.
How Many Hand Lyrics - The Accidentals The hatchet’s buried, and nothing grew But a poison skyline, deceptive blue And we’re all frozen while the world burns How long until we’re past the point of no return Will you knock down walls around your guilt How many hands How many hands does it take How many hands does it take to get a grip The earth is shaking under the drill The surface tension about to spill The milk and honey of our own design How long until we have to leave it all behind And where else could we go How many hands How many hands does it take How many hands does it take to get a grip Solo Have you forgotten all our history We’ve hit rock bottom, the anchor’s fast We fear the future, we can’t go back And all around us, deceptive blue How long until there’s not a point of view How many hands How many hands does it take How many hands does it take to get a grip
6.
7.
Hollow Man written by Mark Erelli (Hillbilly Pilgrim Music/ASCAP) They picked another one off the vine Scooped out the seeds in the back of his mind Filled up his head with half-truths and lies And put the finishing touch on the perfect disguise They rolled out a carpet and threw a parade Convinced everyone he had something to say They smiled as they watched from the two-way mirror As he told all the people what they wanted to hear Hey, have you heard the story? It's the same old song, same old dance Hey, he's bound for glory But he ain't nothing but a hollow man Basked in the glow of the fortune and fame Even threw the first pitch at the World Series game He always maintained he had nothing to hide No one ever suspected he was empty inside Hey, he don't know what he's doing They set him up so high, he never had a chance Hey, you can see right through him He ain't nothing but a hollow man Then came the day his cover was blown Their little Frankenstein monster got out of control So he looked to the ones who had saved him before Only to find that they'd changed all the locks on the doors The press circled round with blood in their eyes Each one wanting a piece of his tragic demise Then they cast him aside when from glory he fell Now he's just another bum with a story to tell Hey, he's less than zero The greater the height, the harder you land Ain't it hard when you find your hero Ain't nothing but a hollow man
8.
Hayley Sabella “Window Song” I look outside my window This is what I see The world goes spinning on so fast But it was built for me When you look outside your window You have a different view Though I’ll try to understand I am still not you But I want to love you I know that it’s complicated To hold space for you I’m listening for how to make it better I trust the ground you walk on I believe the words you say Though I know that you are strong I have never known the weight that you carry And if I say I trust you Then the world needs some rearranging To hold more space for you And I’ll do my part to change it for the better Let’s change it for the better Let’s change it for the better
9.
Sowing Seeds The Crane Wives still as a lake long after the wind has gone in the face of a thief mashing ground to mud still as a street long after the work is done as he gnashes his teeth, as he cuts it up cuts it up pure venom radiating from the signal tower the sun's long set, and yet it's growing darker by the hour I hope you're listening this gale is whistling a door broke open, and if we blink we stand to miss this and we're all easy fast asleep sick on the buzz and beep sowing the seeds we reap
10.
Holy shit Look at this mess we're in These old men and their money Laying waste to everything Mother, what have they done to you? How do they not see the damage they cannot undo? Breaking point We’ll flood the streets tonight Voices rise above us Until the beacons light Lovers, what are we going to do? Hold strong beside the fire Burn bright, burn true Someday we'll sing about something else Someday we'll sing about something else We can't sing about something else Until we all can sing about something else Burn bright, rising together This night won’t last forever Someday we will all sing about something else

about

One can imagine that looking for reasons to write a protest song in an era defined by heartbreak and outrage could be a bit like drinking from a fire hose. On U.S.P.S. - United Songwriters for the People’s Sovereignty (so named as a show of solidarity with the recently much-maligned United States Postal Service and available via Bandcamp this Friday, October 2) each of its ten featured acts have managed to find the words necessary to wrestle with their respective subjects, which include police violence, voting rights, climate change, history’s influence on the present, and our shared responsibility to act against injustice.

On the collection’s opener, “For the Change,” Michigan singer-songwriter May Erlewine contemplates this moment of reckoning, the role that her own actions or inactions may have played in their suppuration, and the work required to heal. “How can I bring my pain to the river, when the river itself I did drain? How did I let my greed get so thirsty? How can I show up for the change?”

Erelwine’s fellow Michiganders, The Accidentals and The Crane Wives, both make appearances on U.S.P.S. - United Songwriters for the People’s Sovereignty. Sonic and lyrical tension define The Accidentals’ “How Many Hands?,” a stirring meditation on the overwhelming and mercurial challenges that have been heaped on the shoulders of the young. Since the beginning of quarantine, the trio have been tirelessly performing while raising awareness of social causes and the importance of voting. The Crane Wives turned in a live recording of “Sowing the Seeds.” The track features Fleetwood Mac-esque harmonies and concludes that we get what we deserve.

Boston singer-songwriter, Peter Mulvey, takes us through the haunting parallels between a few of the darkest moments from our past and the present with “The Cruelty of History.” Mulvey, who is no stranger to protest songs, was awarded the North East Regional Folk Alliance’s inaugural “Artist Advocate” award. Paul Stookey of Peter, Paul, and Mary was in attendance and presented Mulvey with the award. In 2015, Stookey joined more than 200 other songwriters in adding a third verse of their own to Mulvey’s tribute to the nine parishioners shot and killed in Charleston’s Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, “Take Down Your Flag.” In this song, Mulvey, along with a broad community of songwriters, lays out a case for South Carolina to retire its flag, the design of which incorporates the confederate flag.

Of Portland, Oregon’s Anna Tivel, Peter Mulvey once said, “[She] chooses over and over to dwell unguardedly within the simple humanity of others.” That trait is once again on display in her contribution to the effort, “Black Umbrella.” In this song, Tivel narrates the tale of a Black teen who intervenes in a bank robbery with fatal and undeserved consequences. This frustrating and frustratingly common story is brought lower by the dismissive summary of the protagonist’s efforts included in the following day’s newspaper.

Further and explicitly describing just how commonly and openly violence is waged against Black people is Washington D.C.’s Crys Matthews’s “How Many More?.” It’s hard not to wince listening to the song’s three verses in which Matthews recites impossibly long lists of names of Black persons killed without cause or consequence. These lists are punctuated by the refrain, “How many more marches will it take? How many more days of this until we break? And if you won’t ask how much more could you bear, how many I can’t breathes until you care?”

Boston songwriters are well-represented with contributions from Mark Erelli, Hayley Sabella, and newcomer, Alisa Amador, whose song opens with a poem in Spanish about the experience of growing up Latinx in this country. In 2019, Erelli was nominated for “Song of the Year” by the Americana Music Association for “By Degrees,” an ensemble missive on gun violence that featured vocal performances from Rosanne Cash, Josh Ritter, Lori McKenna, Sheryl Crow, and Anaïs Mitchell. Here, he contributes “Hollow Man”, a song written twenty years ago about a dangerous mix of reality TV and politics, but today, its lyrics seem more poignant than ever. Sabella’s “Window Song” was written shortly after the murder of George Floyd, the Minneapolis man who died after a police officer knelt on his neck for nine minutes, setting off a wave of protests around the globe that continue to this day. It is a promise and a call to actively build a better world by listening to and supporting the work of Black leaders.

Fittingly and without irony, U.S.P.S. - United Songwriters for the People’s Sovereignty closes with a song from TEOA (The End of America) titled “Holy Shit,” a blunt but warranted assessment of the current state of affairs and the crushing sense of overwhelm that many are feeling. The Brendan Thomas-penned song addresses the importance of having your voice heard during this critical time in our lives. U.S.P.S. - United Songwriters for the People’s Sovereignty is a fitting time capsule for this era and will be available exclusively on Bandcamp’s monthly Free Friday; the first Friday of each month. Bandcamp has waived its fees and allowed artists to collect 100% of the proceeds. The album will remain on Bandcamp through election day and for their part, all of the artists on U.S.P.S. - United Songwriters for the People’s Sovereignty have agreed to donate 100% of the proceeds to the ACLU.


U.S.P.S. - United Songwriters for the People’s Sovereignty
Release date: Friday, October 2, 2020

01 For the Change, May Erlewine
02 Black Umbrella, Anna Tivel
03 The Cruelty of History, Peter Mulvey
04 Nudo de raíces / Searching For Reasons (Live from Club Passim), Alisa Amador
05 How Many Hands?, The Accidentals
06 How Many More?, Crys Matthews
07 Hollow Man, Mark Erelli
08 Window Song, Hayley Sabella
09 Sowing Seeds, The Crane Wives
10 Holy Shit, TEOA

credits

released October 2, 2020

01 For the Change, May Erlewine
02 Black Umbrella, Anna Tivel
03 Nudo de raíces / Searching For Reasons (Live from Club Passim), Alisa Amador
04 How Many Hands?, The Accidentals
05 The Cruelty of History, Peter Mulvey
06 How Many More?, Crys Matthews
07 Hollow Man, Mark Erelli
08 Window Song, Hayley Sabella
09 Sowing Seeds, The Crane Wives
10 Holy Shit, TEOA

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